The Love That Binds Us
by Darc Greyhaven
Summary: Three-year-old Grace Madeline Smith lost her parents in a car crash... Now who is there to watch over her but the Winchester family next door? (What would happen if the Winchester brothers were raised with a 'sister' that always goes on hunts with them...)(1st Person Point of View)
1. Prologue: November 2, 1983

July 1, 1983

Mommy and Daddy haven't come home yet. I don't know why. They said that they would be back before dark, but as I turn on the small night light and shut my closet door, I doubt they will be home anytime soon. I walk over to the small window of my second story room and watch as the car headlights on the street below pass speedily by. I wonder if Mommy knows I am thinking about her. I quickly shut the curtains and run back to my bed.

Mr. Winchester is watching me from the doorway, a small smile on his face. I don't know what to call him anymore. Daddy calls him John, but when I try to call him that, Daddy gives me a look and tells me to be respectful. But I don't think Mr. Winchester minds. He always just smiles at me. I can still feel his smile as I turn away from him. His footsteps sound soft on the carpeted floor. He reaches over and tucks me in. He then gives me a soft kiss on the forehead and tells me good night in that gruff voice of his. His beard feels scratchy on my face.

I turn to look at the doorway as he walks back to the living room to wait for my parents. I can see the beginnings of something I can't name in his eyes. I frown. Is he mad at me? I hope not. Daddy won't be happy if I made Mr. Winchester mad.

"Mr. Win chess sir?" I ask quietly. He glances back at me from the hall. "Why mad? Mad me?" He just chuckles at me before smiling. "No Kiddo, I'm not mad at you. I'm just worried about your folks." With that he walks down the stairs, turning off the light in my room along the way.

My frown grows bigger as I try to understand what he was saying. Did worry mean that something was wrong? I glance around my room before deciding that it certainly couldn't mean that. Mommy had taken me to play at the park with Mr. Winchester's son, Dean, before she and Daddy had to go to a dinner. Mr. Winchester offered to watch me while they were gone. So, nothing could be wrong because we had a good day… right?

I close my eyes and try to go to sleep. I'm nearly there when I hear the phone downstairs ring. I listen as Mr. Winchester's voice answers with a gruff "Hello?" I crawl out of bed and to the foot of the stairs so that I can hear. Mr. Winchester doesn't see me yet. I peek around the railing and find Mr. Winchester ashen faced and staring at something I cannot see. He shakes his head. "This is their next door neighbor, John Winchester." He looks around him, still not seeing me. "Yes, I'm with their daughter, Grace. Are you sure that's what happened?"

I frown. What could he be up to? Was something wrong? Without a sound, I slip back up the stairs and into bed, knowing that whatever Mr. Winchester was doing, he would probably rather see me in bed than on the stairs. I listen closely as I hear him talking. He was saying something about a Will and a John and Mary (which I assume is he and his wife Mary). There is silence for a while after that, and my mind begins to wander.

I curl tighter into my bed. Whatever Mr. Winchester was doing could wait until morning, and since it is night, night is when I sleep. I am almost out when I hear the soft footsteps on the cold wood stairs. I feign sleep as I feel more than see Mr. Winchester enter my room and come sit on the edge of my bed. He reaches over and runs a hand through my hair. Something feels off about the touch. It is hesitant, almost lingering. It feels… sad.

I turn slightly and look up at the man who seems to be a second father to me. His eyes seem to be a bit puffy. He looks like I do when I finish crying and look in the mirror. Why is he sad? He looks at me and tries to smile, tries to trick me into thinking about something other than the fact that he is crying now. I make a small face at the sight.

"Mr. Win chess sir? Why sad?" I try to look and see if maybe someone was in the house and had hurt him, but he doesn't let me move away. Instead he just pulls me close, into a tight hug. He holds me, and I don't know how to help him, don't know what's wrong. I try to tug away, but he pulls me closer, whispering "I'm sorry" in my ear.

I sit stock still when I hear it. Why is he apologizing to me? Did he do something wrong? Was there something else that was wrong? I look warily up at Mr. Winchester, confusion coloring my eyes. He pulls away suddenly and crouches down on the floor in front of me. My eyes crinkle as he does so, a small frown taking the place of the thin line of my lips that was there previously. He places one of his large hands on my shoulder.

"Grace, why don't you grab your night light and come spend the night over at my house?" He sighs gratefully as I nod. "Here," He grabs my hand and drags me from the bed, "You grab your favorite dolly and I'll get the night light, alright?" He smiles at me as he sees the slowly growing smile on my own face. I rush over to grab a doll I had taken to calling Mommy Doll, and Mary for short. She is almost bigger than me, but I can carry her.

Mr. Winchester reaches over and turns on the light in my room before snagging the little light plugged into the outlet by my bed. Grabbing my hand once more, he walks me down the stairs. Without stopping we all but ran over to the Winchester household, barely even pausing to close the front door of our house. He glances at me every few seconds... like he's checking that I'm still there.

He ushers me into the front room where I can see Dean and Mrs. Winchester staring at us. I smile as I see Dean. He's my best friend. He smiles back. I glance up at Mr. Winchester, and he nods. I can feel as my smile grows wider and both Dean and I run up to his room, but when I look at Mr. Winchester he and his wife are talking quietly. I ignore it. grown up stuff is boring… And now I can go and play with Dean.

July 2, 1983

I wake up wrapped in Dean's arms. We fell asleep on his floor, neither of us really wanting to admit we were tireder than the other. I giggle slightly. Dean is warm, and comfy, and I had been scared of the monster in his closet. He said that there couldn't be one there, but neither of us was willing to face it if there was. I smile as I remember. I close my eyes, hoping that Dean's warmth will lull me to sleep again.

I lay still for a few moments before I feel Dean stir next to me. I sigh. It was good while it lasted. Dean was like a brother to me. He opens his eyes and looks at me before smiling and pulling away. "Ew… girl..." We laugh.

"Am not ew!" I shot back.

"You are!" We laugh again even as Mr. Winchester comes into the room. He gives us both a fond smile, before picking me up and carrying me downstairs, Dean following closely behind. Mary is sitting on their couch watching me with teary eyes. I glance down at Dean and we both frown. Mrs. Winchester shouldn't be sad, shouldn't she be happy and smiling?

Mr. Winchester sets me on the couch beside her. She wraps an arm around me the second he sets me aside. My frown grows deeper as he crouches down in front of me.

"Grace, you are going to stay with Mary and I. For a long time." He sighs. I wonder what he means by that. Won't I be going home later, to see Mommy and Daddy? I lean into Mrs. Winchester as John continues talking. "Sweetheart, I don't know how to tell you this, but from now on, Mary and I are going to be your parents. Mommy and Daddy are not coming back." He frowns as he sees the confusion and horror on my face.

"No! Where Mommy and Daddy? Where?" I can feel my eyes tearing up, but I don't care. He is wrong! He is wrong, I know it! Mommy and Daddy always come back! I look up at Mr. and Mrs. Winchester only to notice their forlorn looks. "Where…?" I whisper, now crying.

He looks down at me, eyes sad and longing. "They are gone. Someplace they cannot come back from. Last night their car was found in the middle of an old forest road. Neither one survived the accident." He looks over at Mrs. Winchester and sighs. "Later we are going back to your house to get your stuff. " He glances at Mary again. "Then I'm going out to see if I can get a lawyer to make it all legal."

I begin to sob and deny it. "No! They come back! All time! They come back!" I squirm in the chair, trying to get away from the woman holding me close. They were lying! They were wrong! Mommy and Daddy were coming! They always do! I eventually grow tired and lean closer into Mrs. WInchester. This is going to be a long day.

November 2, 1983

"Mom!" I yell, "Dean tooked Mary! He tooked Mary!" I chase Dean around the room. He's holding my favorite doll and I want her back. Now. Chasing Dean I trip on the bedpost of my bed. We sleep in the same room now. We have since I started to stay here. I glare at Dean as he just stands over me holding Mary out to me now. "I sorry. You ok?" I reach up and snatch Mary from him. "No. I hurt." I point to the newly forming purple bruise on my elbow from where I hit the floor.

Dean frowns. "I kiss it. Make it better." I laugh. "K." I hold my arm out to him and he kisses my elbow. It tickles. That's when Mary comes into the room and smiles at the two of us.

"You two just can't stay out of trouble, can you? I think it's a good thing you get along so well. Now let's go say goodnight to Sammy and get you both into bed." She reaches down and picks up Dean, holding out a hand for me to take. We walk over to the room next door

"Come on, let's say goodnight to your brother." She sets Dean down and he rushes over to kiss Sam's forehead. "Goodnight, Sam." I follow just behind him and do a repeat, kissing little Sam's forehead. "Goodnight, Sam." Mary leans over and whispers "Goodnight, love." to Sam and gives him a small kiss on the forehead. I smile as John comes into the room behind us.

"Hey Dean. Hey Grace." He leans down as Dean runs to him and gives him a hug. "Daddy!" I follow closely behind and wait my turn. "Dad!" I smile as I get my hug and move away as John picks up Dean. "So… You think Sammy's ready to toss around a football yet?" Dean just giggles and shakes his head. "Noooo… Daddy!" I laugh as John just chuckles a "No…" Mary smiles and pats John on the shoulder as she leaves the room. "You got them?"

John smiles and holds Dean closer to his body, letting him wraps his small arms around his neck, and reaching out with his other hand to take one of mine. "I got them." He looks at Sam. "Sweet dreams, Sam." He smiles as we leave the room. We walk back to Dean's, and my, room. John set Dean down and we both raced to be the first one into bed, vying to be the one John tucked in before the other. Dean always won, and it doesn't change this time. I pout and stick out my tongue at him, before laying down and waiting for the cover to encompass me in its warmth, much like Dean's embrace when I have a nightmare.

I smile and snuggle down into my bed. Dean was my big brother… and my best friend. And Sammy was my little brother. Well, not really. But that was certainly what it felt like. I watch as John leaves the room. I used to call him Mr. Winchester, but ever since I came here, I've started calling him Dad. It's easier. That's my last thought before going to sleep.

* * *

Someone is screaming. And loudly. I look over at Dean with wide eyes. He looks back at me. We listen, waiting to see what's happening. Neither of us quite understand the level of bad that is going to happen. We hear running from the stairs. I quickly run over to Dean, scared. He moves over and lets me sit next to him. I recognize Johns heavy steps.

"Mary?! MARY?!" I move closer to Dean. Dad sounds worried. More so than usual. From here I can make out the sound of a door slamming open. John calls Mom's name once more before speaking quietly. Probably to Sam, to sooth the child before him. Then everything goes silent, followed by a thump and a bright light. "No! Mary!" Dad is yelling again, something unintelligible. I curl closer to Dean, now really scared. Sam starts crying loudly and the sound of crackling can be heard. I close my eyes. This must be a nightmare. I feel more than see Dean jump up and run into the hallway. I follow closely behind, scared that something would happen to me if I let him get too far away.

Dad comes out of Sammy's room, carrying him and hands him to Dean. "Daddy-"

"Take your brother outside as fast as you can, don't look back! Now, Dean! Go!" John stares after us as I follow Dean outside. Dean runs carefully carrying Sam, making sure he doesn't fall. I watch them both as I keep just behind him. I pull the door ajar for Dean and we both glance back up at Sam's room as we get to the yard. I look at the small boy in Dean's arms. "It's okay Sammy." Suddenly Dean is scooped up by John and we are running towards the street as the fire in the room suddenly comes out of the windows.

Soon enough we are surrounded by bright lights and loud sounds. Men were rushing around on funny clothing and strange yellow hats. The truck they came out of was red. Black and white cars with flashing red and blue lights seem to be everywhere. The strange men are holding long tubes that spray water on the house. The men who got out of the black and white cars are wearing funny looking black hats. I don't like them. They have shiny stuff on their clothes.

Behind me, John is sitting and holding Sam. Dean is sitting beside him, leaning against his shoulder. All of us are teary eyed. I thought that Mary was going to love me forever and ever. She was my Mom after Mommy was gone. And now she is gone, too. And now all I have is Dad, Dean, and Sammy. I feel hot tears fall down my face. I don't want to lose anything else.


	2. Chapter 1: Hunting Trip

_**22 years later:**_

"Grace!" I sigh, not this again. When would they understand that I was not going to the stupid Halloween party? Was I not clear when I said that I had to study for the major test that was upcoming? I run through the list of reasons that I had for not going to the party, and I come up blank. It was going to take much more convincing that I had to make her stop begging me to go. I try not to roll my eyes as I turn and look at Sammy's girlfriend, Jess, who, for the last two weeks had been begging me to go with her and Sam to this party tonight.

"Yeah, Jess?" I quickly shoot her a tired smile to cover the fact that it came out a slight bit sharper than I had meant for it to be. I brush back a strand of my mud-brown hair. She is a nice girl, Jess, and I really don't want to hurt her feelings. Sam would kill me. She just has this attitude and life about her. And the way she can get Sam to do almost anything is unbelievable. It makes me wonder how she got Sam to agree to go to this God forsaken party tonight.

"Grace, come on! You have to go tonight. Sam will be disappointed if you don't come!" I cringe. Yeah, use my own best friend against me. The boy I see as a younger brother. Jess pouts. "Grace… Everyone is going to be there. Besides… Everyone knows what a hit your books are! You should be celebrating!" I sigh.

"Jess… I'll tell you what. I'll go tonight if you and Sam promise to work with me on my next chapter. Halloween or not, I am not going to write one of my 'hit' ghost stories if I don't get some ideas from Sam. He is the king of knowing creepy." I smile at her, knowing that if I went tonight, I could still get some work done. Creative Writing at Stanford was not an easy task, especially not with Architecture and Design as a major. I shift my weight to my left side absentmindedly while I let Jessica decide my fate.

"Yeah, Grace. We'll help you. Now, let's go! You have to get ready!" I groan as she drags me along. This was definitely not how I wanted to be spending my Halloween. Not while I know just what could be lurking in the shadows. I trudge up the steps to my apartment, Jess almost walking on my heels the whole time. I laugh quietly, knowing that when she wanted something, she got it.

I unlock the door and push it open slowly. If I'm not careful, Fang, my loyal husky, will dart out into the street. Pressing Fang back with my foot, I wave goodbye to Jess and shut the door, leaning against it when I feel like I can relax again. Fang presses her nose into my hand and I laugh. It was always Fang to cheer me up when times got tough. I rub a hand all over her head before I walk into the bedroom. I pull off my usual leather jacket and classic rock t-shirt, before slipping out of my jeans and under clothes and into the shower.

Quickly washing, I step back into the empty bathroom and comb my hair. Walking back into the bedroom, I grab my brand new AC/DC shirt from the rack, a pair of faded black jeans, my leather boots, a new set of underclothes, the small silver necklace I got from the Winchesters when I was three, and my jacket from the bed. Halloween or not, I will under no circumstances, wear a costume. It's childish and would not look well in the small scrapbook I keep tucked under my bed. I grimace as I realize that there is hardly a college party that goes without alcohol. I hope they don't expect me to drink.

Looking around the room, I grab the little black messenger bag that doubles as my book bag. Rummaging through it, I pull out the papers I will need for studying tomorrow and place my journal and leisure reading book into my bag in their stead. Grabbing my scrapbook and leafing through it, I decide to put that in there, too. I might need it if I head over to the place where Sam and Jess are staying after the party. With a sigh I grab my black shades and the pocketknife I keep hidden in my jacket pocket before shouldering my bag and leaving the apartment, locking the door behind me.

"So here's to Sam and his awesome LSAT victory…" Jess starts with her glass raised and a smile. Sam just chuckles as he looks over to her. She is cute in her nurse outfit, I do have to admit. No wonder Sam is in love with her. Then again, I wouldn't know what that feels like. I was always too busy studying and preparing stories. I didn't have time to try and write a love story of my own.

"Alright, alright. It's not that big a deal-"

"He acts all humble, but he scored a one-seventy-four." Jess is trying not to laugh as the man between her and Sam shoots back his drink only to almost spit it all over us. I laugh. He wasn't expecting Sam's score to be that good. I knew better. I was the one studying with Sam all those nights, well, Jess and I were the one;s studying with him. Sam was sometimes more of an over-achiever than I was. Especially when it came to something that wasn't hunting. I still don't think he's told Jess about what we used to do for a living.

The man looks at Sam with wide eyes. "He's that good?" He looks between me, Jess, and Sam. Jess nods with a small laugh. "Scary good." The man laughs. I try not to laugh as I watch Sam shoot back his drink with a grimace. He never was much into drinking either.

"So there you go, you a first round draft pick…" He pauses for a moment clapping Sammy on the shoulder. "You can go to any law school you want." Sam just smiles as his friend sits in between me and him.

He meets my gaze before speaking. "Actually I got an interview here, Monday." He looks over a Jess. My eyes widen, but he continues on before I can speak. "If it goes okay, I think I got a shot at a full ride next year." He nods his head in agreement to what he was saying. He looks over to Jess who reaches over and grabs his arm.

"Hey, It's gonna go great." She leans towards him for a moment before moving back. Sam leans back in his chair, a slight smile on his face as his eyes travel over to me. "It better." He just shakes his head.

The other man just reaches towards him and starts talking again. "How does it feel to be the golden boy of your family?" I grimace. That was definitely not a question for Sammy. And I already know his answer. It's the answer I always give. I grew up with his family, as if they were my own.

Sam looks over to me. "Nah, they don't know."

"They don't know! I would be gloating!" He get up and spreads his arms wide. "Why not?" His arms swing behind his back.

"'cause we're not exactly the Brady's. Just ask Grace." Sam gives a half smile.

" And I'm not exactly the Huxtables. More shots?"

A unison no resounded from Sam, Jess, and I, but he still went to get more. Jess looks over at Sam in a way I've only ever seen a few times. "Seriously, I'm proud of you. And you're gonna knock 'em dead on Monday and you're gonna get that full ride. I know it." I nods in agreement when Sam looks over to me.

Sam shakes his head looking between us. "What would I do without you?"

Both Jess and I returned with a counter of "Crash and Burn." before laughing. I just watch as she pulls him in for a kiss. It's a funny way to spend my Halloween, that;s for sure. I glance down at the still full shot glass in front of me. Perhaps I should take at least a sip of it. There is no use in being here if I'm not going to do anything at all.

Suddenly I find myself the center of attention as Sam looks over at me and says, "We can't forget Grace. She has written some of the best horror stories I've ever read." I just laugh. He knows exactly what my stories are, and is going with the cover I gave him. I used to keep track of every hunt I ever went on. And now I'm turning them into books. Every hunt is a new book. Sam thinks it's amazing since he knows that I wanted the best of two worlds. I loved hunting, the feeling of knowing that at any moment the hunter could become the prey. But I also longed for a life that allowed me to settle down. Fall in love. Stay in a single place for longer than a month.

Jess smiled at me from across the table as I blushed a light pink. "It really wasn't anything. Just a couple of fictional stories that I wrote when I was little." I took a long look at the shot glass before me before shooting it down. I grimace and look at Sam. "Besides, Sammy, It's wonderful that you'll finally be getting into law school."

Sam just shakes his head. "Oh, no you don't Grace. I know what you are doing. If I've got to be here for this, you have to be, too. You got a scholarship for creative writing before you even thought about writing one of your books." He smiles at me. "Besides, Gracie, it's not like Dad or Dean even know about what you've done either. Don't you want just a little bit of freedom?" I sigh. Maybe I should have stayed home after all. Never was the partying type anyway.

* * *

I grab my laptop from my book bag and open it. "Alright, I know it's late, but Sammy, you have to help me. We all know that you are the king of creepy." I glance at Jess and see her give a small wink and a yawn. "Maybe I should wait until morning. You guys look tired. Besides, I guess I've had one too many of those shots, and I only had one. It makes me nauseous." I reach to shut the lid of my computer, but Sam's hand stops me.

"Grace, you can't keep doing this. If you need help, just ask. I'm always going to be just half a step behind you." He gives me one of his best smiles, one of the smiles he usually saves for Dean. "And I know the real reason you are here."

I sigh. Sam always could see straight through me. "Yeah, Sam. I know. It's just… Mom's death still haunts me. I lost three parents that year… " I hold back tears as I look at Sammy, trying to give him a smile. But all I can muster is a frown. I turn away from him, reaching over and grabbing my laptop, shut it, and place it in my bag.

I stop moving when I feel Sam wrap his arms around me. I always knew Sam was more the emotional type than Dean… But that never stopped either of them from giving me a hug. It makes me feel safe. I eventually return the hug before pulling slowly away. I don't want to keep him and Jess from sleep any longer.

A crashing sound from nearby makes both of us glance at the door and then back at eachother. Without waiting to find out what was happening Sam runs outside with me hot on his heels. We don't wait to see if Jess is coming. Too much risk involved to wait.

Sam and I pause and look around to see if we can find anything. Eventually we see a shadow cross in one of the rooms through a curtain of beads. We slowly sneak into the room, Sam leading the way. Sam pauses as we come to a door that holds a glass panel. We wait a few seconds for it to open and reveal the perpetrator before Sam attacks. Apparently the man who broke in is also well versed in the art of fighting because he blocks Sam's initial attack. A few block, punch, kick combinations later the man is standing victorious over Sammy in the closest room.

"Woah, easy tiger." A familiar face smiles down at him as his voice matches the place Dean always held in my heart. I stay silent, hoping that I might get a chance to catch him off guard. I feel Jess stand beside me as we watch the brothers before us.

"Dean…?" Sammy breathes out. Dean just laughs as he keeps Sam pinned to the floor. "You scared the crap out of me…"

"That's 'cause you're out of practice…" He smiles down at his brother. I silently laugh as I see the plan forming in Sam's head as he smiles back. A well placed headlock later, Dean is the one eating his own words. "Or not." He chuckles. "Get off of me."

Sam gets off of him and offers him a hand up, before staring at him. "Dean, What the hell are you doing here?"

Dean laughs and grabs him by the shoulders in a joking manner. "Well, I was looking for a beer." He lets his arm drop just before Jess flips on a light. "Sam?"

Both brothers look at her with a deer caught in the headlights look. I can't contain my laughter at this point and Dean's eyes widen more when he sees me.

Sam looks to Jess. "Jess… hey… uh…" Jess moves closer looking at the two of them in a confused manner. "Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica."

Jess moves forward with a look of realization. "Wait, your brother Dean?" She points at him and I smile. Leave it to her to make a very awkward situation that much less awkward.

And leave it to Dean to ruin the moment with is need to say something stupid to every chick on the planet who isn't me or his grandmother, so to say. He gestures to her shirt. "I love the Smurfs… " He steps forward and smiles at her. "You know I gotta tell you… You are completely out of my brother's league."

Jess gives an almost deprecating smile as she looks to Sam and then back at Dean. "Just… Let me put something on."

And once more Dean just has to say something to his _brother's_ girlfriend. "No, no, no… I wouldn't dream of it." He shakes his head as he looks at her. "Seriously." She rolls her eyes. He turns away to look at me. He waves a hand at me. "Hey Grace." He looks between Sam and me.

"Anyway I gotta borrow your boyfriend and your friend over there to talk about some private family business." He walks over to me and rests an arm on my shoulder. He points back at her. "But, uh, nice meeting you."

But before anything else is said, Sam takes a look at Jessica and walks over to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "No. No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her."

I can see the look in Dean's eye as he takes that for a challenge. He glances sidelong at me. "Okay, um, Dad hasn't been home in a few days." My eyebrows furrow at the statement. Did Dean really come all the way out here to tell us something he could have said on the phone? I give a slight chuckle.

Sam answers Dean's prompting with a smile. "So he's working over time on a miller time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

Dean hangs his head as if he had been expecting that. He looks to me. "Dad's on a _hunting_ trip… and he hasn't been home in a few days." His smile is gone as he looks between me and Sam now. I watch as a look of something darker washes across Sammy's face. I can't name it. And his silence is unnerving. He doesn't even look at Jess when he speaks. "Jess, excuse us." I frown. What would make Dean so desperate that he would drag both Sam and I from _college_?

We follow Dean out and down a flight of stairs, Sammy complaining the whole while. I trailed behind them, not wanting to be part of one of their arguments Those never really end well, and since it is still the middle of the night… I really don't want to have to break one of them up either.

"I mean, come on, you can't just break in, middle of the night and expect us to hit the road with you!" Sam tries, but I just shake my head. Dean was one of those men that shot first and asked questions later. He always has been. That's how John trained us to be.

"You're not hearing me Sammy… Dad's _missing_. I need you to help me find him."

"Remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then too. He's _always_missing and he's _always_ fine." Dean turns to look at Sam and I, stopping us where we are.

"Not for this long. Now you gonna come with me or not?" He gives Sam and I a says he already believes we are coming. I sigh. There was no talking Dean out of this one. A couple days away won't hurt, though. As long as we are back by Monday. Sam's interview is on Monday, and my architecture test starts at eight.

Sam's answer though causes me to look over at him. "I'm not." He looks down at Dean, who is a few steps below him.

"Why not?" Dean questions.

"I swore I was done hunting. For good." He sighs and looks away.

Dean frowns. "Come on. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad." He allows us to continue going back down the stairs.

"Yeah. When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45." He pauses just before the gate to get out.

"Well what was he supposed to do?" Dean stops and turns to look at Sam.

"I was _nine years old_! He was supposed to say 'Don't be afraid of the dark'."

"Don't be afraid of the dark?! What, are you kidding me? Of course, you should be afraid of the dark! You know what's out there!"

"Yeah, but still. The way we grew up after Mom was killed… and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her. But we still haven't found the damn thing! So we kill everything we can find!"

Dean looks over to me and down before speaking. "Save a lot of people doing it too." He smiles smugly at Sam. Sam just chuckles and looks over to me and then back to Dean.

"You think Mom would have wanted this for us? For Grace?" He counters.

Dean just turns away. We follow him out the gate. Sam is hot on his heels, still trying to get Dean to see sense. I sigh. These boys were always arguing about something or another. And when it gets bad? Guess who gets dragged into it? Me. They both expect me to choose a side that would be pitted against the other. All I want is for the fighting to stop.

"The weapon training? And melting the silver into bullets? Man… Dean we were raised like warriors!" He turns and looks at Dean as we finally reach the parking lot.

Dean scoff and continues to walking beside Sam. "So what are you going to do? Just live to normal, apple pie life? Is that it?" He stops us at the trunk of the Impala.

Sam just sighs. "No. Not Normal. Safe."

Dean looks between the two of us. "And that's why you both ran away?" Dean scoffs once more.

Sam looks at me and then back at Dean. "We were just going to college. It was Dad who said if we were going to go… we should stay gone." He looks seriously over to me. "I just followed a few years behind Grace. And that's what we're doing."

"Yeah, well Dad's in real trouble right now." He shakes his head at us. "If he's not dead already. I can feel it." He sighs. "I can't do this alone."

Sam just gives him one of his denial faces. "Yes you can."

Dean looks away. "Yeah. Well, I don't want to."

The silence is almost deafening between the brothers as I wait for someone to say something else. Because I certainly don't want to get into one of their cat fights. I am already going to be dragged who knows where, by Dean. The least he can do is not argue in front of me. They both know just how much I hate it.

Sam glances at me before finally giving in. He looks down and breathes out a harsh breath, "You are going, aren't you Grace?" I cringe. I hate that tone. He only uses it when he's disappointed with me. I look at Dean before I answer. "I don't see why I shouldn't. You guys are family after all. And besides my career, you guys are all I have left." I look at the ground remembering the conversation I had just had with Sam. "If Dad is missing… I at least have to try to find him."

Sam sighs before staring at Dean in a calculating manner. "What was he hunting?"

Dean thinks for a moment before leaning over and throwing open the trunk of the impala and removing the false bottom. Underneath is all the weapons a hunter would need to go hunting just about anything. I watch the two brothers. They may always be fighting, but they made a hell of a team when they got along.

"Alright, " Dean rubs his hands together. "Let's see… where the hell did I put that thing?" He rummages through the different compartments, looking for something in particular.

Sam watches him. "So when Dad left… Why didn't you go with him?" I frown. Sam is right. Dean was always with Dad. No matter how dangerous or docile the hunt was. Dean is still rummaging through the trunk when he speaks.

"I was working my own gig. This voodoo thing down in New Orleans."

Sam smiles and I laugh. It was almost funny to think about. I speak first, in mock surprise. "Dad let you go on a hunting trip, by yourself?"

Dean stops and looks at me with a serious face. "I'm twenty six, dude."

Sam and I silently laugh as Dean finally locates a brown folder and a stack of papers. He removes some of them and looks between me and Sam. "Alright, here we go." He straightens up and looks down at the papers. "So Dad was checking out this two lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California." He holds out a page to Sam. "About a month ago, this guy, they found his car but he had vanished. Completely MIA."

Both Sam and I look down at the page that reads "Centennial Highway Disappearance" with a picture of a man with blonde hair. Underneath is a caption that says his name is Andrew Carey. We look up at Dean. Sam was the smartest of us so I let him speak this time.

"So maybe he was kidnapped."

Dean stops at looks at us."Yeah well, here's another April, another one in December '04.'03, '98, '92, ten of them over the past twenty years." He snatches the paper from Sam and places it with the others in the trunk. "All men. All same five mile stretch of road." He moves things around and grabs a small olive green bag, setting it down in the middle and opening it up. It turns out to be a type of book of sorts. With plastic over it's cover pages. He stares down at it.

"Started happening more and more , so Dad went to go dig around." He sighs and looks down at the book before glancing at me. "That was about three weeks ago." He looks back down. "I haven't heard from him since, which is bad enough." He reaches down and pulls something else out. It's a tape recorder. "Then I get this voicemail yesterday." Both Sam and I lean closer to listen as he presses the play button.

My eyes widen when I hear the amount of EVP on the recording. It makes John message so choppy. "Hey, Dean. Something is starting to happen, and I think it is serious. I need... to find out what's going on. You may need…" The message fades and comes back in stronger. "Be very careful, Dean." The message fades again and Dean stops the recording.

I look up at him. "You do know there's EVP on that?"

Dean smiles at me. "Wow, Gracie, "I frown at the use of the old nickname. I haven't been hunting in seven years. "Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?" Sam shakes his head beside me. We wait for Dean to reveal whatever else he has.

"Alright. I slowed the message down and ran it through a gold wave." He messes with the recorder and plays it back. "Take out the hiss and this is what I got."

A female voice all but hissed from the recorder. "I can never go home." Dean stops ti and both Sam and I lock eyes before looking at Dean, Sam looks down. "Never go home."

Dean slams the recorder down and looks over to me. He looks away with an expression I can't read. He slams the trunk down and leans against it before looking to his brother. "You know in almost two years I've never bothered you. Never asked you for a thing." He pauses and Sam looks at me. I step back with my arms up. "Don't drag me into this."

He sighs and looks back at Dean. "Alright. I'll go." He nods. "I'll help you find him. But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here." He turns around, probably to go and get his things. Dean stops him. "What's first thing Monday?"

Sam stops and stares at Dean. "I have and interview."

Dean smiles. "What, a job interview? Skip it."

I frown. I forgot Sam hadn't been telling Dad or Dean how well he was doing in college. Sam was going to have his life set up for him if he did well on the interview, Monday. He was going to become a big lawyer eventually, and probably deny the fact that any of the rest of us exist. Sad though it is, Sam would probably deny me, too. He hasn't yet, but it wouldn't be the first time I was set aside by my own family. I used to have to break out of the motel room to join Dad, Dean, and Sam on hunts. Dad eventually gave in and trained me as he trained the boys.

Sam glares at Dean. "It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate."

Dean just smiles that half smile of his. "Law school."

Sam continues to stare at him. "So we got a deal or not?"

Sam walks away to go talk to Jessica and grab his things. I stay with Dean. I don't want to look at him, but I can feel his eyes boring into me. I lean against the Impala beside him, staring at the ground. He just keeps staring until I give in. "What is it, Dean?"

"So I've heard about this book series. For some reason, it sounds a lot like the hunts we went on with Dad when we were little." I smile and look up at him. "So, what, you think that was me?" He holds out a hand. Within it is a copy of one of the first books I ever got published. I give him a sheepish grin.

"So? They aren't just fantasy books. The author's name is Faith Jones. You think we wouldn't figure it out? Dad would wring your neck if he saw one of these. And if something else got its hands on these… We could be in serious trouble. Every secret about us and about everything we've ever hunted, and you are just sharing it with the world."

I pout. "Dean, they are just books. And it's not like anyone besides you, Dad, and Sam know the truth. Everyone else just believes that they are amazing horror and fantasy books."

"Yeah. Well, if I found out you've been working on something else that could endanger us if the law caught wind of the fact that your fictional characters weren't so fictional, I'm going to make sure you don't have the chance to do it again. No more books." He put the book into the bag I've been carrying with me.

"But, Dean! That's what I do for a living, now! I write books! Why do you want to ruin what little I have left?! And if we don't make it back by Monday Morning… Sam loses his chance at a full ride here, and I lose my one chance to finally get a normal life."

Dean takes a hand and rubs it behind his neck. "Look, we'll go and find Dad, and I'll bring you both back. Alright?" I nod. I look back towards the building.

"Yeah. I'll be back. Just let me grab a few things. I live a few doors down from Sam and Jess."

I turn and walk up the stairs to my left and unlock to apartment door. I can hear Dean's footsteps behind me. Fang growls from somewhere to my left but I shush her. She instead chooses to follow closely behind Dean, making sure he wasn't going to hurt me. I grab a few of the books stuffed around the room and a set of spare clothes. I brush back the fur on Fang's ears. "Sweet heart, I want you to go stay with Jessica while I'm gone. Is that alright." The soft bark makes me smile. I grab a leash and walk over to Sam and Jess's apartment just as Sam walks out. He gives me a small smile before walking back to the Impala. I walk into the door before it shuts. Offering the leash to Jessica, who says that she understands and can watch Fang while I'm gone, Dean and I make our way back to the Impala ourselves.


	3. Chapter 2: A Mess Made for Three

A pleasant yawn escapes my lips as I look up and find Sam's sunny face looming over me. I frown at him before I remember why he is there. I groan in despair as I realize there is no going back now. I sit up from the back seat of the Impala and watch as Sam smiles with a shake of his head. He pulls a tin from the dashboard compartment and starts scanning through its contents.

I look around. Dean must be inside the gas station convenience store behind me. He isn't in the driver's seat and Sam's door is open. I yawn again, still tired from the nap I had after leaving Stanford. Sam glances back at me with a fond smile. I just stare at him like he's grown three heads. "So this wasn't some nightmare, and we both suddenly picked up and left in order to find Dad?"

He chuckles. "Grace, why did you come? Really? And don't tell me it's because you had no choice and don't try and say that you love hunting, because we both know that you wanted to get away from it as much as I did." He gives me one of his 'I'm serious' looks.

I look at the doors of the station behind me, willing for Dean to come out. After a few seconds, I finally answer Sam. "Sam… I chose to go with Dean because you guys really are all I have left. You, Dean… Dad. I didn't want to believe him the night I left for Stanford. I didn't want to believe that he would ever hate me enough to tell me to stay gone. But if he really is in trouble… I have to do something. I can't sit around waiting for you and Dean to show back up."

My gaze travels over to the driver's side door. I suddenly wish that the car is blaring Metallica, anything other than the silence. "Nothing I ever do will ever mean anything if I don't have you guys to back it up. No one knows me like you do, Sam. Not even Dean. Not anymore. And hunting is something that we all share, even if it is something that we don't want to. I would have left on my own if I found out from Jess that you went with Dean." I look up and meet Sam's confused eyes.

He eventually just shakes his head and goes back to looking through the tin, knowing that I wasn't going to say anything more. "You shouldn't have to feel that way."

I sigh and go back to laying down in the back seat. Remind me not to let Sam have his chick flick moments. I'd never hear the end of it if Dean caught wind that I was having one of them now. "Well, I do." I close my eyes. Suddenly I hear Dean call out to us.

"Hey! You want breakfast?" I smile and shake my head. Sam does the same.

"No, thanks. So how'd you pay for that stuff? You and Dad still running credit card scams?" He flips through the tin and pulls out a card and examines it before putting it back.

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a Pro-Ball career... Besides all we did was apply. It's not our fault they sent us the cards." Dean pulls the nozzle from the gas tank of the Impala and places it back into the pump.

Sam looks skeptical. "Yeah. And what names did you write on the application this time?" Sam shuts his door as Dean moves to the driver side of the car. I chuckle at the age old argument. It never failed for Sam to find something to argue about, whether it was the weather or the way we paid for the food.

"Burt Aframian." Dean climbs into the driver side door, setting his chips and soda down beside him. "And his son, Hector. Scored to cards out of the deal." He shuts his door. Sam smiles as he thinks about it. "That sounds about right."

Sam looks through the box of cassette tapes Dean keeps for the Impala, picking one up and quickly throwing it back into the box. He looks at Dean. I laugh. Here we go again. Sam and his music, I swear. Why doesn't he see the good in AC/DC and Metallica?

"I swear man, you have _got_ to update your cassette tape collection."

I frown. "Why?"

"Well for one, they're cassette tapes. And two," He starts picking up tapes and putting them back, a tape for every name he names. "Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica?" Dean snatches the Metallica tape before Sammy can put it back and puts it into the player. Sam laughs. "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."

"Well… house rules Sammy. Driver picks the music. Shotgun shuts his cakehole." He throws the tape that was previously in the player back into the box. "Besides, Grace doesn't mind. Do you, Grace?"

I laugh at Sam's face from the backseat. "Sorry, Sammy. I have to agree with Dean on this one. We all know just how much I love Metallica."

Sam just rolls his eyes and looks at Dean. "You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old." Loud music fills the car, almost overpowering Sam's voice. "It's Sam, okay."

Dean laughs as the car lurches forward and we begin the drive to Jericho. "Sorry, I can't hear you. The music's too loud." He smiles back at me in the rearview as Sam shakes his head in the passenger seat. It's going to be a long trip.

We drive past an old rusty road sign that says we are seven miles out from Jericho. Sam's spent the last couple of hours getting on and off the phone, trying to see if he can get ahold of someone who's seen Dad. He currently has the phone pressed to his ear as I watch the landscape pass by. I blink as I hear the sound of Sam's phone shutting again. He looks back at me before glancing over to Dean.

"Alright, so there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue, so that's something. I guess." He doesn't say anything else, and Dean looks over at him for a moment, before returning his eyes to the road. The car goes silent except for the music blaring from the speakers. I frown as I see an old bridge ahead, filled with cops and cop cars. I glance at Dean. "Check it out." Sam and Dean both look up to see what is happening. Dean pulls the car over to the side.

The officers on the bridge watch as the car pulls to the side. Dean just reaches over and pulls a box out of the glove compartment. Inside are sets of ID cards. He takes one and hands one to me and Sam. To my surprise, the card was made for me. Dean grins. "Just in case, Gracie. Just in case." He steps out of the car. "Let's go."

As we walk over to the scene of the crime, one of the deputies looks over the railing. "You guys find anything?!" He yells to some of the men investigating underneath the bridge and in the river. The shake their heads and yell back up to him. "No! Nothing!"

The man on the bridge turns around and looks over to his partner, walking back to the car in the center of the bridge. He leans against the ajar door.

"No sign of struggle?"

" No footprints. No fingerprints. Spotless. It's almost too clean."

I smile a small smile. Looks like we have stumbled upon the case Dad has been working for the last couple of weeks. These men have no idea what they are really working with, and the lack of evidence proves that whatever we are working with, it is going to be interesting. It appears to be a spirit of some sort. Maybe haunting this highway. A glance in the direction of the boys tells me that they don't know what we are dealing with yet either.

"So this kid, Troy, he's dating' your daughter, isn't he?" The deputy asks his partner as we approach. He hasn't noticed us yet as we stand off to the side.

"Yeah."

"How's Amy doing?"

The partner sighs. "She's putting up missing posters downtown."

Dean steps forward and looks at the two men. "You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't ya?" H glances over the car in the middle of the bridge as the officers turn and look at us, questions defined in their eyes.

"And who are you?" The tone is almost superior. I fight back the urge to scoff at the men. Just who did they think they were?

Dean has already thought of this occurrence and flashes his badge to the officer. "Federal Marshals." He looks over the car in front of us. He's looking for something more to go on for the case, something that could tell us what we are hunting.

"You three are a little young for marshals, aren't you?" The man steps forward and stares at us as he tries to decide whether or not to believe that we could ever be marshals. That superior tone has returned, now present in the look in his eyes. I glance at Dean, but it seems I'm not the only one holding back laughter. He laughs slightly at the man before us.

"Thanks. That's awfully kind of you." Dean turns away and starts walking towards the car that the officers have been examining. Sam and I follow. It's time to look at the evidence.

"You did have another one, just like this, correct?" Dean glances back to the officer behind us before looking back at the car.

"Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. And there have been others before that."

I look at the man. "So this victim… you knew him." It is more of a statement than a question. I watch the man as he nods with a small almost smile.

"Town like this? Everybody knows everybody." He nods again. We all turn and look at Dean as he walks around the car, already asking another question. He's got his hands behind his back, and he's trying to be serious.

"Any connection between the victims… besides that they're all men?" He looks over at us as we move even closer to the car.

"No. Not so far as we can tell." He looks at all of us.

Sam steps around the back of the car, looking it over himself. "So what's the theory?"

"Honestly? We don't know. Serial murder. Kidnapping ring?" He honestly doesn't know as he looks at me. I sigh.

Dean looks over at him. "That is exactly the kind of crack police work I would expect out of you guys." He smiles as he says it and I fight back another urge to laugh. Dean was ever the charmer, wasn't he? Sam makes a point to smile widely as he stomps on Dean's foot. The man frowns at all of us as he takes in the words. Sam walks forward, perhaps to leave the scene.

"Thank you for your time. Gentlemen" He walks away from the scene. I follow closely behind him, Dean behind me. I stare at Dean in almost awe as we walk, but I can tell that Sam is upset that Dean would say that to the officer, knowing that Dean could have blown our cover with a comment like that. In front of me, Sam shakes his head. I watch Dean step around me and thwap Sam in the back of the head.

"Ow!" Sam whispers back at us, glancing over his shoulder. I give him an apologetic grin. "What was that for?!" He glares at Dean. Dean just shoots back at him.

"Why'd you have to step on my foot?"

"Why do you have to talk to the police like that?"

I pause as I look over Sam's shoulder and notice the approach of three men. One looks to be the sheriff, and the others look to be FBI agents. "Guys!" I try to gain their attention to tell them, but they aren't listening to me. Aren't even paying attention to anything but themselves. Dean steps in front of Sam and causes us all to stop walking.

"Come on, they don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean if we are going to find Dad, we're going to have to get to the bottom of this ourselves." I roll my eyes, noticing the three men getting closer. These two can't stop arguing for anything. But I realize that Sam finally notices the sheriff as he looks over Dean's shoulder and clears his throat, nodding slightly in the direction of the men. I sigh. It sure took them long enough. Dean turns around and faces the approaching three men.

The one who looks like the sheriff speaks. "Can I help you kids?"

Dean looks briefly at the ground and away. "No sir... we were just leaving." He moves to the left as the agents walk by. "Agent Mulder. Agent Scully." I keep a hidden smile as we walk around the sheriff. Dean had to have the snidest comments and recognizable names, didn't he? And what about me? I can feel more than see the sheriff's eyes as we walk back to the Impala.

I roll my eyes as I get into the car. Those boys are going to get us into trouble if they keep it up, and then who's going to be able to stop this monster from killing even more people? I make a point to cuff both of them on the back of the head. They need to learn to keep their arguing for when nobody's watching. They look back at me, confused.

"That's what you get for arguing with government officials around." I just laugh again as they give me a 'what the Hell?' look.

Dean finally sits back in his seat and hits the button for the player and an old AC/DC album fills the car. He pulls away and heads in the direction of town. Sam looks out the window. I lean back in my seat as I watch the boys, contemplating whether or not to ask if I can hit up the library for some research while they chase after Amy. It would make it easier if I had a little bit of research in before we stopped for the night.

"Hey, Dean. Do you think you and Sam can handle talking to Amy by yourselves? I want to start research over at the library and pick up anything that could possibly help us." I glance at the bookbag beside me. My laptop should be able to connect to the library wifi. Dean glances back at me.

"Are you sure that you can manage on your own until we get there? Wouldn't want something to happen to you while Sammy and I get to have all the fun." He shoots me a quick smile before looking back at the road. "Don't go getting too smart over there."

I laugh. "Dean, I'll be fine. Nothing is going to happen to me in a library." I roll my eyes as Sammy shakes his head with a small smile. He knows I'll be safe in a library. I'm always in the library over at Stanford. Well, that one or one of the local libraries. "Besides, if I find anything useful, or get into trouble…" I scoff at the mere thought of it, "I'll call you."

Dean nods. "Yeah. You do that."

The library in the town is small, but big enough to hold a good array of books and a few desktop computers, along with about twenty people. Not that anyone is there really but the receptionist right now. I look over at one of the empty tables near the left hand side of the room. I pick a seat where I can see all the entrances and exits of the library. Reaching into my black bag I pull out my laptop, open it and log in.

Pulling up the browser, I look for archives of old newspapers. Maybe one of them will have a clue as to what we may be hunting. The first archive to appear is The Jericho Herald. I click the link, hoping that it may be useful. The banner at the top of the page showed an eagle holding a shield and a banner, its wings spread as if it was falling from the sky. The page title read Jericho Herald.

I look around the library, hearing the door open. It's just an elderly woman with a stack of books talking to the receptionist at the desk. I sigh and look back down at the screen. From what we had earlier. Whatever had caused this started about twenty years ago… so I should search for deaths on the Centennial highway around 1985. I click on the search bar, entering the phrase 'Death Centennial highway' and click the search button.

It gives me a list of all the newpaper articles Dean had shown us the night before. Obviously this isn't what I'm looking for, but I go through them anyway, looking for something I could have missed. They just tell me the same thing we learned from the police this morning. With a sigh I click the search bar again, but this time I hear the door open once more. Ignoring the sound, I type the phrase. 'Murder Centennial highway'. This time I don't get any results.

I flinch when I feel a warm hand on my shoulder. "Find anything, Grace?" I smile as I lean back and look up at Dean. He's giving me one of my favorite smiles. You know, one of his true smiles. The ones he usually saves for Sammy. Sam is standing behind him. I shake my head a negative.

"Nothing useful. The only deaths I found were the same ones we saw earlier. Did you get anything useful from Amy?" I look over at Sam.

"Yeah. Her friend said that there was Urban legend. A woman was murdered out on Centennial highway an-" I stopped him before he could continue.

"No… There was no murders on the Centennial highway. I already searched. But if you think it could be a spirit, angry spirits are born out of violent deaths, right? So what if it wasn't a murder?" I click the search box again and type a new phrase into it. Sam and Dean are watching over my shoulder. 'Female Suicide Centennial highway' I click the search button. 1 result comes up. 'Suicide on Centennial' Underneath are the words: A local woman's drowning death…

As I click on the link, an article comes up. I read the page to the men behind me. "April 25, 1981. Constance Welch, 24 years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge. Drowns in the river." Sam looks at the picture of the woman on the screen. "Say why she did it?"

"Yeah." I frown as I read the words on the screen. If what the story says has a chance at being false, I think we may be dealing with a woman in white. But I can't tell the others that until I have proof of it being more than just another angry spirit. I look over to Dean.

"What?" He questions as I look back at the screen.

"An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Her two little kids are in the bathtub, she leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back… they aren't breathing. Both die." I frown. I never understood how someone could kill their own children. I scrolled down through the article. "One Joseph Welch, her husband, said that 'our babies were gone, and Constance, she just couldn't bare it.'" I stared at the image of the bridge a few lines above and to the right.

Sam notices the bridge, too. "That bridge look familiar to you?" I look back at the brothers to see them already forming a plan. I close the page and place my laptop back into my bag as the boys start talking about going to the bridge tonight.

The sky road is only dimly lit as we reach the Sylvania Bridge. Dean stops the Impala at the edge of the bridge. We all climb out of the car. Dean and Sam lead the pack as we walk out into the center of the bridge. We find ourselves peering over the rapid river currents. The wind is a soft caress compared to the chill coming off of the water. I shiver slightly in the cold.

Dean stares at the water. "So this is where Constance took the swan dive." He watches the water for a moment before Sam speaks.

"So you think Dad would have been here?" He grips the railing and looks at the water below. I step back and stand more to the middle of the bridge. I have a fear of heights I simply couldn't ever get over. I let the boys talk for a moment and just listen.

Dean frowns and steps back from the edge. "Well, he's chasing the same story, and we're chasing him… so." He turns and looks at me before walking and thinking, a prominent habit with him. He always seems to do it when he is trying to figure out what to say, and what exactly is happening.

"Okay, so now what?" I ask following Dean as he walks. He sticks his hands in his pockets. I follow suit as another chills rolls across my body. I can tell Sam wants the same answers that I do.

"Now we keep digging till we find him. Might take a while." He brings his arms to his sides in emphasis. Sam and I stop in our tracks. We had to be back by Monday. What was Dean thinking? Did he think we could just drop everything? That we could just go back to hunting and looking for Dad? I cringe. What if he did? What if that's what he expects…

Sam beats me to the words. "Dean… We've told you, We have got to be back by-" They both chorus "Monday."

Dean turns to look at me and Sam. "Right. The interview. Your test."

"Yeah."

"I forgot." I stare wide eyed at Dean. I can't believe he forgot. He must be immensely worried about Dad. And probably about watching over us while we look for him. "You guys are really serious about this, aren't you? Sammy, you think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?"

"Maybe… Why not?" Sammy asks. Dean ignores him and looks at me. "And you really think you can just keep on publishing those books? Some hunter out there is going to resent you for telling the world the secret trades of people whose lives you just unleashed? Don't you think that maybe that could be dangerous to your health if the the things we hunt got a hand on one of those books and discovered just who you were?"

He scoffs and looks back at Sammy as I repeat his question. "Does Jessica know the truth about you? Either of you? Does she know about the things you've done?" Sam steps forward. "No. And she's not ever going to." I shake my head. I don't know why Sammy wants to deny that he ever lived a hunter's life.

Dean just nods. "Well that's healthy." The sarcasm leaks out of his words. "You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later, you have to face up to who you are. Same to you, Grace." Dean smiles and tries to walk away but we pursue him. Sammy is behind me as I question Dean now.

"Who is that?"

"You guys are one of us."

Sammy steps around both Dean and I. "No! I'm not like you! Grace is not like you! This is not going to be our lives!"

Dean stops. "Well, you have a responsibility…"

I raise an eyebrow. "To Dad? And his crusade?" Sammy steps in and stares at Dean.

"If it weren't for pictures… I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like." I remember Mom. I do. I remember her like I remember my own mother. She was beautiful. She loved me as if I was her own. Like I had always been there, her own daughter. I want to cry because Sammy can't remember her. She was young. And Sammy… He wasn't even a year old. He continues on. "What difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her… Mom's gone and she isn't coming back."

I see what is going to happen a second before it happens and I stop it. I am not going to let Dean do that. Not to Sammy. Not in a moment of anger. I grab Dean's shoulder and grip it tightly, pulling him closer to me. The anger he was going to turn on Sammy he turns on me.

He pushes me back towards the railing behind him and pins me to bridge by the collar of my jacket. I give a small smile to a surprised Sammy just before Dean speaks. "So you're just going to let him talk about her like that? You remember her… You were there!" He stares angrily at me before shaking his head and releasing me. He turns and looks at Sammy. He walks away from us. I try to catch my breath as Sammy stares at me. I smile again and he runs a hand over his mouth. Dean stops, staring at something I can't see yet. "Grace." He calls. Both Sam and I turn to look and see what he's staring at. I frown as I watch what appears to be a woman in a white dress… standing on the railing of the bridge. She looks like the picture of Constance we pulled from the archives earlier.

I walk over to Dean, Sam right behind me. We watch as the woman looks forlornly at us and steps off the rails into the river below. I look at Sam as we race across the bridge to see where she went, and if there was a chance we could help her. We hit the railing and search the river.

"Where'd she go?" Dean's eyes search frantically

"I don't know." Sam's voice is almost confused.

The distinct sound of the Impala starting distracts me from the search for the woman. I look over to see the headlights flash on and light the bridge up. Sam and Dean turn to look at the car as my eyes widen. "What the…" I can hear Dean call out behind me.

"Who's driving your car?" I whisper back to the boys. I glance back at Dean to see him pull the keys from his pocket and dangle them between us. So if he has the keys… "Who's in the car?"

Suddenly the squeal of tires on concrete scream out as the Impala charges forward. Towards us. I stare at it. This should not be happening. A tug on the sleeve of my jacket jerks me backwards as Sam turns and runs in the opposite direction, Dean beside us. We run as fast as we can but after a few seconds, it becomes obvious that we can't outrun the car behind us. Sam pulls me over to the side of the bridge, and Dean follows. We jump.

As I fall, I can see Sammy latch onto one of the support beams of the bridge. Too late, I realize that I should have done the same as I hit the cold water. The sudden shock overtakes me for a moment before I remember to get to the surface for air. I breach the surface and pull myself onto the bank, covered in mud and soaked in river water. I gasp for breath as I watch Sammy pull himself back onto the bridge.

Sam looks back at the water, searching for Dean and I. "Dean! Grace!" As he calls out I can feel Dean pull himself onto the bank beside me, also covered in mud. I sigh in relief as both of the boys are safe. "Hey! Are you alright?" Dean hold up a hand and looks up at him.

"I'm super."

Sam laughs a hysterical yet small laugh and pulls himself the rest of the way onto the bridge. I watch him for a moment before Dean drags himself up into a standing position. He offers me a hand I gratefully take. We make our way up the bank and back onto the bridge. I try to brush some of the excess mud off of me, but it's caked on pretty well. Dean immediately races over to check on his baby, pulling open the hood to make sure his engine wasn't damaged.

I sigh as I go and stand next to Sam, shivering in the chilly air. The dive into the river surely didn't help. Dean checks over the engine as Sammy and I talk. "You know, Grace, you could have let Dean get me instead. You didn't have to step in. I could have handled it."

I smile at him. "Nah, Sammy. That's what I'm here for. To make sure the two of you stay out of trouble. Besides, Deanie over there knows it two. You guys are like my brothers. I'd do anything for you." Dean slams the hood of the Impala back down, signalling the end of our conversation. He probably didn't hear any of it.

I look at Dean. "Your car alright?"

"Yeah, whatever she did to it… It seems alright now." He looks over the bridge with a hint of humorous anger. "That Constance chick. What a _Bitch_! "

Dean leans against the Impala's hood as I stand next to Sammy. Sam just looks over the bridge. "Well, she doesn't want us digging around. That's for sure." Dean breathes out a frustrated sigh as Sammy sits on the hood next to him. I lean against the side of the hood and look over at Dean. I'll just let Sammy do the talking for now. "So where's the trail go from here, genius?" Sammy's sarcasm makes me laugh but Dean throws his hands up in the air before frowning and flinging away some of the mud caked on his sleeves. Sam looks over at Dean and glances at me. "You two smell like a toilet." I hang my head as Dean growls in frustration and gets into the car. Sammy and I follow suit.

"One room, please." Dean throws a credit card in front of the clerk working the office in the motel. The clerk picks up the card and stares at it, studying it before looking back at us three.

"You guys having a reunion or something?" He pauses. As the silence continues, he proceeds with his questions. "Another guy, a Burt Aframian, checked out a room for the whole month." We look at each other. Dad must have been here. Dean asks for the room number and we make our way over to the room. Sam picks the lock as Dean and I stand guard. As soon as the door opens, we all quickly file in.

Along the walls there is one of Dad's set-ups. Files and stories about the hunt we're currently on. Pictures cover most of the bare space and a set of colored string marks his discoveries. A half eaten burger rests on a nightstand as Dean leans over and turns on the lamp. I try not to disturb the slat lines on the floor as Sammy investigates the bulletin board.

Dean sniffs the sandwich and flinches away. "I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least." He throws the burger back where he found it and glances over at Sam. I pick up a few of the grains of salt, making sure that was what it was. "Salt, Cat's eye shells, he was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in."

Dean nods and walks over to one of the walls in particular, studying its contents. Sm walks over with me behind him. I walk around Sam to stand next to Dean. Along the wall is pictures and stories of the victims on Centennial highway. "What have you got here?"

"Centennial highway victims." He looks at the pictures again. "I don't get it. They're different men, different jobs, ages, ethnicities… There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?" He glances back at me. Sam is over looking at another wall.

I watch Dean. I know what these men must have had in common. Constance had proved me right when we watched her jump off the bridge. She was a woman in white. So I just wait for Sammy to tell him, or for the two of them to figure it out. I hear the click of another lamp turning on and look over to Sam. "Dad figured it out." He says, looking over his shoulder. Dean glances over at Sam. "What do you mean?"

"He found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She's a woman in white." Dean looks over the list of victims along the wall with a half smile.

"You sly dogs." I hold back a laugh. It would be just like Dean to say something like that about men who were unfaithful to women. I don't think he's been with any girl for very long at all.

He suddenly gets serious though and turns back to look and me and Sam. "Alright, so if we're dealing with a woman in white… Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it." I look at Sam only to find him staring at some of the clippings posted to the walls. "She might have another weakness."

Dean walks over and looks. "Well, Dad would want to make sure. He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?"

I look over the clippings myself. Sam looks at the two of us. "No, not that I can tell. If I were Dad, though…" He points at a picture of Joseph Welch. "I'd go ask her husband. If he's still alive."

I look towards the bathroom. "Alright, well, why don't you two try to find an address and I'm gonna go get cleaned up!" I walk in the direction in the bathroom and hear Dean mumbling about girls. I just laugh as I shut the door behind me and begin running the water. While it heats up I grab one of the extra sets of clothes I brought along just in case something like this happened. I sigh as I realize I'm going to have to clean these clothes later. I pulls the clothes off and set them where I can grab them on the floor. I set the fresh clothes on the toilet lid beside the shower.

The water feels warm and thick as I scrub the mud from my skin. It feels disgusting, but I am all the better for it. Scrubbing some soap I brought into my hair I try to get as much of the mud out as humanly possible. I step out of the shower feeling refreshed and ready to face the rest of the day. I get dressed quickly so that Dean can get cleaned up. Pulling on my shoes I step back into the room and look at Dean. "Your turn, pretty boy." I smirk and he just grumbles again and shuts the door to the bathroom behind him.

I look over at Sam and he just shakes his head, pulling out his phone to check his voicemail messages. From where I am I can hear the sound of Jessica's voice playing from the speakers. I don't understand what she's saying, but I'm sure it makes Sam feel better just to hear her voice at all. Sammy is going through a third one when Dean steps out of the bathroom pulling on his jacket.

"I'm starving. I'm going to grab myself a little something to eat at that dine down the street. Grace, you wanna come along?" I nod my head and stand up. Dean looks over to Sam. "You want anything?"

"No."

Dean smiles. "Aframian's buying,"

Sam just shakes his head. Dean shrugs at me with a 'what can you' do look."

Dean pulls open the door and allows me out of the room first. I take a few steps before I pause. A cop car is sitting out front talking to the motel manager. They look over to us as the man points at me and Dean, I frown at Dean before remembering that Sam was still inside. I quickly turn away and grab my phone, dialing Sammy's number. He picked up by the second ring.

"What?"

"Sam, 5-0, take off."

"What about you guys?" I glance back to see the officers waking closer.

"They kinda spotted us." I hang up the phone and shove it into my pocket.

Dean turns and faces the officers. I watch as he puts on one of his trouble making smirks. "Problem officers?"

The deputy from back at the bridge looks between us. "Where's your partner?"

Dean plays the confused bystander. "Partner? What Partner?" I just shrug as if I had no clue what the officers were talking about.

The two deputies look at each other and split up. One goes in the direction of our room, and the other tries to intimidate Dean and I. "Fake U.S. Marshals, fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?" I actually laugh at the men as he says this. He doesn't know what he is dealing with, but I'd still rather not end up the the back of his car. Dean just smiles.

"My boobs." The officer doesn't take very well to Dean's answer. He pushes him against the hood of the nearest car and cuffs him. His partner returns and does the same to me.

"You have the right to remain silent. Everything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." I glare at Dean and he gives me an apologetic smile as I find myself shoved into the back of the police car alongside Dean. This day just couldn't get better, could it?


	4. Chapter 3: Ghostly Interference

I sigh in frustration as the door to my holding room remains closed. What if the sheriff is already interrogating Dean? I pull my hands together and clasp them, hoping to calm some of my nerves. I am not used to getting into trouble of any kind. When we were kids, Dad did his best to make sure we were never caught. At school I was never late, never failed a test, and never got into any fights. I may not have been popular, but I wasn't bullied either. So the fact that I am currently seated in a room at the police station wears my nerves thin.

I get pulled from my thoughts by the sound of the door opening. It's the sheriff. I frown as I notice he is empty handed. He smiles and sits across the table from me.

"Look, I know you aren't here to cause trouble. What we really want is to catch the men responsible for the missing victims. The two men you were with are suspects in the on-going investigation. But you don't want those boys in any more trouble, do you _Grace_?" My eyes widen as he addresses me by name. "That's, right. We know all about you. What we need is for you to come clean about what's going on. The more you tell us, the less trouble those boys are going to be in."

I look at the table and remain silent. The sheriff wouldn't believe me if I told him the truth, and I'm certainly not going to say anything that could incriminate Dean further. He sighs and I can feel him watching me as he stands up and walks over to me. He places a hand on my shoulder. "Grace, you're only going to get yourself into more trouble if you don't help us. You are a good girl. I don't want those boys to bring you down with them. So, can you help me?"

I shake my head. "No. I can't." I don't look at the man, though. I can't even believe he would try to use me against the boys I see as my own brothers. I can't believe he wanted me to turn on them to save myself. I can feel the sheriff's disappointment as bends down and cuffs one of my wrists to the other and pulls me up by my right arm. "I really wish we didn't have to do this, but you left me no choice. If you aren't going to tell me what you know, Dean is. Because that's his name, isn't it?" I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. How could this man already know so much about us?

He nods before pulling me through the door. He walks me down the hallway to another door. Just inside the glass I can see Dean. The sheriff looks at me. "You just got yourself into a load of trouble. Now do you want to do this the easy way, or the hard way? I can take the cuffs off if you aren't going to run." He looks me in the eyes and I nod. He nods in return and unlocks the cuffs before opening the door and pulling me into the room.

Dean looks up at me as we enter the room and the sheriff pulls up a chair and sits me next to him. I can tell by the confusion in his eyes that he has been left alone thus far. I relax slightly next to him. He always knows what to say. It's what makes him one of the best older brothers in the world. The sheriff eyes me for a second before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a very familiar book. It's Dad's journal. He never goes anywhere without it.

"So, boy, you want to give us your real name?" The sheriff takes a seat across the table from us, eyes carefully watching Dean. Dean just smiles. and crosses his hands in front of him. Less relaxed in his chair than when I first came in, but still putting up a good front.

"I told you, it's Nugent. Ted Nugent." Dean's smile flashes momentarily brighter as he hides a laugh. I try not to smile as Dean plays this game. The old Rock and Roll personas were his favorite.

"Boy, I'm not sure you know how much trouble you're in. How much trouble you've gotten your friend here in." Dean's smile just grows as he leans back slightly in his chair and stretches his arms.

"We talkin' like… Misdemeanor kind of trouble or squeal like a pig kind of trouble?" He jokes as he looks over at me. He knows that it makes me nervous to have to deal with the police. He looks back over at the sheriff. The sheriff gives him a rather piercing look.

"You got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall." I look at the table as Dean looks away, probably trying to figure out how to convince this guy that we aren't the ones taking these men. "Along with a whole lot of satanic mumbo jumbo." He lowers his head to look Dean in the eye. "Boy you are officially a suspect. And now so is your friend here, since she won't tell us what your up to."

Dean chuckles under his breath and looks at the sheriff. "That makes sense. Because when the first one went missing in '82, I was three, and she had barely turned two."

The sheriff wasn't having any Dean's games today. "I know you got partners. One of them is an older guy. Maybe he started the whole thing." He reaches a hand behind himself to take something from one of his back pockets. He takes it and tosses a very familiar leather-bound book onto the table in front of us. "So tell me, _Dean_, is this his?" I continue to look at the sheriff as I see Dean shift slightly next to me. On the table is Dad's journal, the one he never goes anywhere without.

Dean's silence is disconcerting as he stares at the book."I thought that might be your name." The sheriff reaches over and flips through it, past newspaper clippings and old notes about the monsters Dad has hunted, along with old photographs. "See I leafed through this, what little I could make out. I mean, it's nine kinds of crazy." The pages he flips past show drawing of monsters that I haven't ever seen. Dean leans closer to see the book better. "But I found this, too." The sheriff looks at both Dean and myself. "Now, you're staying right here until you tell me exactly what the hell that means."

He points a chubby finger at a lined page that says: Dean 35-111. To anyone who doesn't know our Dad the numbers wouldn't make any sense. To Dean, Sam, and I, it is a lead to where Dad is. It's a set of map coordinates that he uses to tell us where he is going. Something he picked up from when he was a marine.

Dean smirks at the officer standing over us. "It's my high school locker combo."

The sheriff rolls his eyes. "Come on, What the hell are those numbers?"

Dean just shakes his head. "I don't know how many times I gotta tell you. It's my high school locker combo." He clasps his hands in front of him as he stares at the page. I watch with a half smile.

"We gonna do this all night long?" The sheriff gestures at Dean with one of his hands when one of the deputies stands at the door..

"We just got a 911. Shots fired over at Whiteford Rd." He leaves to go with the other officers. The sheriff look back at us. "You guys aren't going anywhere. You have to go to the bathroom?" I shake my head. Dean answers with a confused no.

The sheriff smiles. "Good." He reaches over and cuffs Dean's left arm to the table. Reaching over and cuffing my right arm to the chair, he doesn't notice that he is leaving Dad's journal on the table. A very good place to find something to pick the locks on the cuffs. He leaves the room, closes the door, and locks us in behind him. Dean looks over and smiles at me.

"Well, that went well. How you doing over there, Gracie?" He glances at me for a moment before reaching towards the book with his free hand to grab the paper clip pinning the page to the journal. WIth trained ease he grabs the clip and bends it into a usable shape before sticking it in to jimmy the cuff on his wrist. Within a few seconds he is free. He walks over to me and does the same to mine.

He offers me a small smile as the lock clicks. I quickly stand up from the chair and look over at the door. No shadows have crossed the light since the sheriff left. A glance at Dean and a nod later we find ourselves outside the sheriff's office and in the hall. I glance around and pause as someone walks by in the other room. The footsteps recede and we make our escape as the last of the officers leave the building.

Outside, Dean looks around and finds an old telephone booth a couple streets down. I follow him, knowing that it would be best to call Sam now that we were out. He walks only two strides ahead of me as he follows the path to get to the old booth. He puts in some spare change and dials a number as he pulls the phone from its slot. The phone rings a couple times before Sam picks up.

"Fake 911 phone call, Sammy. I don't know that's pretty illegal." I can barely hear Sam's response from beside Dean. It was said with Sam's sense of wry humor.

"You're welcome. "

"Listen we've got to talk." Dean shifts his weight to his right leg absentmindedly.

"Tell me about it. So, the husband _was_ unfaithful. We _are_ dealing with a woman in white, and she's buried behind her old house. So, that should have been Dad's next stop." Dean looks at me as he listens to Sam's words. Finally he grows tired of waiting.

"Sammy, would you shut up for a second?"

Sam continues on as if Dean had never said anything. "I just can't figure out why he hasn't destroyed the corpse, yet."

Dean rolls his eyes. "Well, that's what I been trying to tell you!" He pauses for just a breath. "He's gone. Dad left Jericho."

I can hear the surprise and confusion in Sammy's voice as he answers. "What?! How do you know?" I imagine his puppy dog eyes with a small tilt of his head as he tries to figure out what we know and he doesn't. Dean sighs as he looks down at the leather bound book from the station.

"I've got his journal."

I can just make out Sam's response. "He doesn't go anywhere without that thing…"

Dean looks at the pages of the journal as he talks to Sam. "Yeah, well, he did this time."

"What's it say?"

"Ah, the same old ex-marine crap when he wants to let us know where he's going."

"Coordinates. Where to?" Sam sounds resigned.

"We're not sure. Grace and I haven't had the time to check it out, yet."

"Guys, what the hell is going on? GUWH!-" A thunk can be heard from the phone.

"Sam?! Sam?" Dean and I both call out, hoping Sam is going to answer. The line goes dead. Dean and I look worriedly at each other. Something is happening to Sammy, and we need to be there two seconds ago. I look around.

"Dean, do you think Sammy was out on Centennial Highway? Maybe to go and try to burn the bones?" He just nods with his serious green eyes. He looks around for a way for us to get out there in time to help Sammy. We start running. We are close enough to the old bridge to know that we should be at the property in time if Sam could create a diversion from what is believed to be the woman in white.

Dean grabs a shotgun from the bag we had when we were apprehended. It's filled with rock salt rounds, the ones we can use on spirits and things. He hands it to me as we keep running, the process almost jarring as we try to get to the old Welch house down in Breckenridge. Dean pulls one of his iron round filled guns from the bag before shutting in and running faster in the distance we can make out the glowing tail lights of the Impala as it drives on towards the old house. It stops and the lights go out.

I look at Dean, but we are still too far from the car to do anything. We keep running. Within a few minutes we are much closer to the car, but the sound of Sam yelling in pain cause us to run faster. No one messes with Sammy... _Nothing_ messes with Sammy, and gets away with it. The yelling stops and Dean opens fire on the ghost of Constance Welch. He misses her on the first few shots as we run up to the driver's side window. When I get close enough Dean stops firing and I fire a shot of the rock salt shotgun. Constance disappears into smoke as the salt hits her.

Sam pants in the seat. Five holes have been burned through the fabric of his shirt and his clothes are in disarray. Barely glancing at us, Sam sits up and starts the car. He glares at the house in front of him. "I'm taking you home." He pushes hard on the gas and the car all but jumps forward, ramming into the side of the house. Dean and I take off after the car.

"Sam! Sammy?" I call as we get into the house. The Impala is stationary in the middle of the front room.

"Here." It sounded as if Sam was in pain.

"You okay?" Dean jumps over most of the debri trying to get to his brother.I look around the house making sure Constance doesn't show back up for another round with Sam. I look back as Dean yanks open the passenger side door.

Sam looks at us. "I think." It makes me want to run over and check on him, but I need to make sure nothing else gets the chance to get a drop on us. Nothing is out of the ordinary, yet, but most of the front room lays in shambles around us. A picture of a family lies on the floor in front of me. I dust it off. It looks like constance and two children, perhaps her own. I set it back down as Dean pulls Sam out of the car. A chill passes over me as Constance appears in the spot I just left. I watch as she picks up the same portrait and stares at it.

I quickly move back over to Sam and Dean. Sm looks alright, but I don't want to take any chances of the situation becoming any worse. Constance looks up from the photograph and glares at the three of us with a hatred I can only assume comes from the fact that we brought her back home. She throws the painting aside as we watch her, waiting for her to make her move. A dresser suddenly slides across the room and into the us. Three pain filled grunts resound as we are slammed into the side of the Impala.

Dean recovers first and tries to shove the dresser away. Soon enough Sam and I join in, but nothing we do can get it to budge. Constance moves closer, staring heatedly at all of us. The lights flicker and the house begins to shake. Constance is distracted by it. She looks around before turning her gaze to the stairs where the sound of water running can be heard. Small whispers of what may be the word mommy echo around the house as Constance stares. A light fills the staircase as two children appear at the top of the stairs, dripping with water. We all watch as Constance moves to the foot of the staircase looking at the children. The children grab hands.

"You've come home to us, Mommy." They flicker out and back into of existence at the bottom of the stairs, behind her. She whirls around in fear to face them. She looks distressed and scared. Her children suddenly reach out to hug her. The second their arms meet her body, they begin to fade. Constance screams as water encompasses her. She flickers into different forms before dissolving into water herself, along with her children. Nothing is left but a wet spot on the floor.

Three of us look at each other, breathing hard. Dean glances down and we all work together to push the dresser off of us. It falls over at our feet. I look one more time at the boys before walking over to the place where Constance and her children disappeared. I fear the boys walk up behind me as Dean places a hand on my shoulder and looks at the puddle. His face is disbelieving.

"So this is where she drowned her kids?"

Sam and I half nod as we stare at the puddle ourselves. I look over at Dean and he hand moves back to his side. "That's why she could never go home." I laugh slightly at the end of my sentence. Sam finishes it for me. "She was too scared to face 'em."

Dean looks over at Sammy. "You found her weak spot." I smile as Dean continues on. "Nice work, Sammy." I turn and look behind me as I hear Sam laugh and try to cover a yelp of pain. I shake my head. Boys will be boys, I suppose. And Dean's tough love routine isn't going to end anytime soon.

Sam smiles. "Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak."

Dean smiles and points at Sam. "Hey, saved your ass. I bought you enough time for Grace to take care of her for a while." Dean glances at me before turning around and studying his car as if he needed to make sure it was perfectly fine. "I'll tell you another thing… If you screwed up my car…" He lets the threat hang before deciding to finish it. "I'll kill you."

I laugh. Dean wouldn't dream of killing Sammy in a million years. He's just worried about Baby's paint job. "Yeah, right. Dean, you wouldn't lay a hand on your brother if it got ten different flavored pies out of the deal…"

"Yeah, well…" He looks at Sam. "Don't do it again." I can tell he's fighting back a smile. Sam and I laugh as he goes back to looking over the car. Dean always worries about his Baby. I think the world would end if he ever lost her. I laugh again as I walk over to help dig her out of the rubble. Dean looks at me. "You two are so giving her a good wash when we get out of here."

I shake my head as Sam walks over and we eventually get the wood cleared away from the Impala. Dean walks around to the driver's side door and pulls it open. He sits down in the chair as the rest of us climb into the car. Dean sighs as he starts the car. He reaches over and hits the button that plays the radio. AC/DC's 'Highway to Hell' fills the car as Dean looks into the rearview mirror and backs out of the house. He pulls far enough back that we would have room to turn around before shooting back off down the highway. It's time enough we left Jericho and started to decipher the coordinates left by Dad. Sam pulls a map from the glove compartment and opens the journal to the page that holds the coordinates. I lean forward from my seat in the back to see what he finds.

He drags a hand across longitudinal and latitudinal lines as he finally locates the place where Dad will be found. "Okay, here's where Dad went." He points the place out to me while explaining it to the driving Dean. "It's called Black Water Ridge, Colorado." Dean nods his head as he looks out the driver's side window.

"Sounds charming. How far?" He glances over at Sam and back at the road. Sam looks at the map. "About six hundred miles."

Dean looks over at Sam and tilts his head in his direction. "Hey, if we shag ass, we could make it by morning."

Both Sam and I hesitate to take the offer. Tomorrow morning would be Monday. We had to get back to Stanford for Sam to make his interview. We both look over at Dean, who is still looking at us, but keeps glancing toward the road. Sammy beats me to the words.

"Dean, we, uh…" I look at the floor boards. I really don't want to disappoint Dean, but we have to go back to school. I just let Sam do the talking for now. The flash of hurt on Dean's face that I saw before I could get my head down is going to bother me for the rest of my life.

"You guys aren't going, are you?" He closes his eyes for just a second before looking back at the road.

"My interview is like, ten hours. I gotta be there." Sam tries to explain, but I know what it will sound like to Dean. We're leaving again. We can't help him look for Dad. I look up and watch Dean as he glances at me in the rearview mirror. He refuses to meet my eyes as he goes back to looking out the windows and nodding.

"Yeah. Yeah, whatever." I fight back the urge to cringe at the hurt clearly evident in the statement. "I'll take you home." He looks back out the windshield. Sam goes back to looking at the map. I just sigh and sit back in the seat. It's going to be a long, quiet ride back to college.

I sigh in relief as Dean pulls up at the front of the apartments. The rest of the ride had been so silent... I had almost thought that the boys would fight, but the silence was worse. It was sos many times worse. Dean looks between me and Sam.

"Well." He glances at the dash. "I guess this is goodbye, for now. I'll call you if when I find Dad." He places one hand on the steering wheel as the other unlocks the doors. Sam steps out and leans against the window.

"Maybe we can meet up later, huh?" Sam looks over at me before stepping back. I hesitate to leave. I don't exactly want Dean to hunt for Dad on his own. Something could happen to him. Sam waits for me at the base of the stairs as Dean turns and looks at me.

"Grace, you can't keep Sammy waiting forever…" I sigh.

"I know… I just… I don't want you hunting for Dad alone. What if something happens to you, Dean? Who's going to be there to tell me? To tell Sam?" I look over at Sam, still standing at the foot of the stairs. It's Dean's turn to sigh.

"Grace, nothing's going to happen to me. Trust me on this. Besides, I'll see you soon. It's not like I'm leaving forever. You go and do whatever it is you geeks do. I'm going to go look for Dad." I don't move. "Look, I'll call you later if that makes you feel better. Don't beat yourself up about this." I nod with a sigh and get out of the car with a small wave at Dean. He nods and drives away, leaving me with Sam.

I look up the stairs. "Let's go." Sam trails up the stairs behind me, obviously still upset that he had to choose the interview over searching for Dad. I slow down to keep pace with him, but keep silent, knowing he won't want to talk about it. I walk with Sam all the way back to his and Jess's apartment. I can hear Fang whining on the other side of the door.

Sam reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key, to allow both of us in. But the moment the door opens wide enough Fang tears off out of the door, down the hall and away out into the street. I open my eyes wide at Sam before giving him a brief goodbye. I quickly chase after her, wondering just what could ever make my dog do that. She's never been this scared. I nearly trip down the stairs as I lose my footing for a second. I catch myself just in time and keep running.

Fang is standing on the other side of the street howling as if the world was ending. She's staring up at the apartment Jess and Sam share. I frown and I walk over to her, trying to calm her. The sound of someone yelling catches my ear as a bright light fills up the window of the apartment. It flickers almost as if… Oh my God… their apartment is on, is on fire! I glance at Fang, but she has already started running again. She's long gone. I look back up at the fire and race back up the stairs. I bust open the door to the place and race to go and find Sam. I reach the bedroom just in time to watch the last of Jess's form on the ceiling disappear. Somewhere near I can hear hear the sound of someone calling Sammy's name, but all I can see is the fire. And all I can remember is the fact that for months Sam has been telling me about these crazy dreams… Ones where Jess is killed by a fire, pinned to the ceiling.

Sam is in hysterics. He can't accept what's happening. He's calling for Jess and denying that this is happening. I can hardly believe it myself. I stare up at the body pinned to the ceiling, engulfed in flames. Wasn't this the reason we left the hunt? The reason we worked so hard to get to college? So something like this didn't happen? I feel a hand on my arm. It's not Sam's, but that doesn't matter. I continue to stare at the burning body. That was Jess. On the ceiling. Jess who was dead. Jess, the woman Sam had fallen in love with. Jess my friend.

Something drags me and a wailing Sam away from the fire. I just stare at Jess until I can't see her anymore, and then I just stare at the place she had been in my vision, shocked. This couldn't happen. They were just dreams. Just Sam's dreams. Dreams were not supposed to come to life and kill the people you knew and loved. Dreams were to supposed to stay in your head where they can torment you, they aren't supposed to happen. Not like this.

I can feel my feet moving blindly in the direction I'm being pulled. Smoke is filling the air. The apartment behind us explodes into flames. I watch as smoke files out the windows in copious amounts. We've somehow made it to the ground. Somehow survived this. I finally turn to look at Sam and whatever was pulling us away as we stop, far enough away from the fire now to not draw too much attention to ourselves. It was Dean. Dean.

I can feel my brows furrow. Dean had come back. Dean had saved us. Dean was trying to calm a very traumatized Sam down enough to quiet him completely. Eventually it just fades to shock, and then to anger. Sam looks so angry. Slowly my own shock fades into worry. Worry for Sam. Whatever killed Jess, killed Mom… and we saw how well anger turned out for Dad. He's been hunting this thing for years and he still hasn't found it.

I look around to see a crowd had formed around the apartment building and firetrucks had arrived on the scene. I follow Sam and Dean to the Impala, parked in an alcove nearby. Dean looks at us before going to look at the scene, leaving Sam and I alone with the Impala.

"Sam-"

"Don't. Just don't."

"Sam if you don't want to talk to Dean about it… Fine. But you can't hide this from me. I'm worried Sam. You can file this away all you want, but it doesn't change the fact that this wasn't your fault. You couldn't have know that this would happen if you-"

"Yes. I did. I had those dreams for months-"

"Sam! We both thought those dreams were just that. Dreams. If you want to blame someone, at least make sure that it's the both of us. I knew about them. That makes me just as liable as you are." Sam stares at me. "I mean it, Sam. Don't you dare just blame yourself… because that rabbit hole is big enough for the two of us." I shut up the moment I see Dean turn back and look at us. Sam just nods and opens the trunk, picking up a shotgun and loading it. I sigh. "Wherever you go, I'm going with you."

Sam nods. Dean walks up behind us, watching Sammy carefully. I can see that he is frustrated by the fact that Sam went through the same thing Dad did. Twenty two years ago. Except Sam is already trained, is already a hunter, and will do everything in his power to track down, and kill, the thing that took Jess. Dean remains silent while he switches his gaze over to me. I can tell he wants to know what happened but I don't think Sam, or myself, is ready for that. Because the truth is… I wasn't lying when I told Sam to blame me also. I blame myself. And I don't blame Sam at all. I should have known something like this could have happened. We were Hunters. And if you aren't the hunter, you're the hunted.

I look away from Dean. He doesn't know how close Sam and I have grown over the past few years. Sam was the only one who talked to me when I first came to college. And then he started coming in person. Two years after that, Sam was here on his own scholarship. There was no secrets between us. He knew about every weird dream, every test, every opportunity, and moment of despair. And I knew the same things about him. We were best friends, having grown up as brother and sister, and we kept as close as was expected of family. And then Sam found Jess. I knew he liked her from the moment he knew himself. He had planned on marrying her, finding a place on his own, becoming a lawyer.

I can feel more than see the look of disbelief as Dean looks back at Sammy, who sighs. He stops holding the shotgun, already finished with loading it, and tosses it back into the trunk with a nod. "We've got work to do." He slams the trunk shut and walks to the front passenger door, pulling it open and shutting it behind him. I look towards Dean for a second before turning to walk to the rear passenger door. Before I can take two steps, he catches my arm and makes me face him.

"Grace."

I sigh. "What, Dean? We should be going."

He shakes his head. "Really? You think we should be going?" He throws his hands in the air. "Oh, yeah. everything's perfectly fine. I know you, Grace. You're not telling me something." He looks pointedly at Sam's closed door.

I sigh again. "Dean, what just happened doesn't just affect Sam, so whatever it is… I hope it can wait. Jessica was my friend. I just watched her burn to death! Can't you just let things alone for a minute. Yeah, usually, I'm the chick. Not today. I don't want to talk about this." I turn to walk back to the side of the car and this time Dean lets me. I open the door and close it behind me. I lean back in the seat and close my eyes. Maybe sleep will come easy this morning. Then again, when was the last time I actually _slept_ without a nightmare?


End file.
